On the wooden table sat a green frog salt dispenser beside a bouquet of wheat in a mason jar. Old cabaret music filled the friendly air and my Norman Rockwell mug was filled regularly while I waited for my lunch.

Though pricey at $14, I splurged on the fish and chips. The fish was flaky on the inside and the batter was crispy crunchy perfection on the outside. The remoulade on the side could have been eaten on its own. Though it’s a secret recipe of the chef, it reminded me of spinach dip, but better.

The fries were cooked nicely and obviously home cut and cared for.

If this restaurant was aiming for a home-away-from-home feeling, it has hit the mark.